


i wanna feel the heat (with somebody)

by anddirtyrain



Series: Sanvers After Hours [5]
Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-24
Updated: 2017-08-24
Packaged: 2018-12-19 08:27:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11893872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anddirtyrain/pseuds/anddirtyrain
Summary: The woman she loves is her weak spot. The chink in her armor. She would do anything to save her, break any law, go against any order. Break her own code and challenge her sense of self. She’s almost afraid to wonder how far it goes.orAlex and Maggie take a bath, and Maggie contemplates some things. Set post 2x19.





	i wanna feel the heat (with somebody)

**Author's Note:**

> thanks to softsawyer for betaing this fic. enjoy!

 

 

 

 

 

“How about a bath?”

  
Her head lies on Alex’s chest, the tips of her fingers idly caressing the soft skin of her stomach. She’d playfully pushed Alex’s shirt up, and after the third time, Alex hadn’t stop her. She’d just grasped Maggie’s hand tight, once, a warning not to tickle her.

  
It’s a quiet moment. The first they’ve had in awhile.

  
Even when there’s nothing to do, they often have the TV on in the background, or one of them is checking their cell phones, waiting for a lead, a call, lab results. Not right now. Not for this week, at least.

  
Now it’s just Maggie and Alex, and the beat of Alex’s heart being a sweet, comforting symphony beneath Maggie’s ear.

  
“Maggie?”

  
She nods in answer to Alex’s earlier question, and gets off of her so Alex can go get the water running.

  
Maggie plops back down in bed.

  
Her head feels heavy, like she hasn't gotten enough sleep even though she has. She barely closed her eyes at the DEO while Alex spent the night there, but she actually had a good night's sleep last night, wrapped around Alex in her ridiculously huge bed, the rain beating the windows. It took her an hour or two to fall asleep even after Alex had drifted of, but she got enough sleep. Apparently, her body disagrees, and for the first time in ages Maggie actually feels the need to sleep in -even though it's late in the afternoon and she's just woken from a nap.

  
“Maggie?” Alex calls out from the bathroom. “You coming?!”

  
She drags herself out of bed.

  
That usually never takes much work. She’s been working since she was 14, and bagging people’s groceries at the local supermarket during the weekend meant she couldn’t very well sleep in every Sunday. Plus she’s never been one to be reticent at the prospect of a naked woman. But after the past few days? She’s exhausted, both mentally and physically. Her body’s been through so much worse, but the overwhelming worry seemed to have its repercussions, as if the worry had literally gnawed her bones. Maggie’s tired. She’d be happy just sleeping the afternoon away.

  
She walks down the four steps to the rest of Alex’s apartment. (What was the point of having the bedroom higher up than the rest of the apartment? What kind of layout is that? She needs to remember to ask Alex what kind of building this used to be. She doesn’t know anyone who would think such an oddly constructed space was perfect apartment material—except her weirdo of a girlfriend.)

  
Maggie is a fan of walls. And her mind goes a thousand different directions when she’s groggy.

  
“You okay?” Alex asks when she walks in.

  
“Yeah.”

  
Maggie takes off her sweatpants and Alex’s shirt. She’s not wearing anything beneath them, and the sudden chill of the bathroom gives her goosebumps. Alex’s eyes trail over her naked skin appreciatively, and Maggie smiles, amused. A solid 6 months together and the sight of her boobs hasn’t gotten old.

  
She’s not gonna lie, it’s nice.

  
She sits down on the closed toilet lid to wait until the bathtub fills up.

  
Alex begins taking her clothes off, and Maggie makes sure her appreciation shows, too. But her eyes can’t help but stray to the gauze still taped to Alex’s shoulder, a reminder of everything Alex went through less than 48 hours ago.

  
“You know you weren’t supposed to get those wet,” Maggie reminds her.

  
“Dressing’s waterproof,” Alex tells her.

  
“For a shower, maybe. You’re about to take a bath.”

  
“I’m sorry Dr.Sawyer.” Alex doesn’t look sorry. She looks teasing and coy and happy to have a naked Maggie in her bathroom.

  
Maggie rolls her eyes.

  
Steam rises from the tub, now threatening to overflow, and Alex turns the tap off. Maggie looks around for a ponytail to tie her hair with, and then Alex’s arm is in front of her face, offering just that. She takes the hair band from her wrist.

  
“Thanks.” She grabs her hand and drops a kiss to her palm for good measure.

  
She doesn’t withhold affection from her girlfriend, but the entire time Alex was missing—the seconds between the actions, while they drove to the prison, while Kara flew her to where Alex was being held—all Maggie could think about was all the kisses she didn’t give, all the goodbye pecks and nods that should have been embraces. She thought about not having said ‘I love you’ sooner.

  
So she’s not going to make that mistake again. Alex gives her a smile and a look as if she knows.

  
Alex steps out of her underwear. She puts her hair up with a plastic clip of such a clashing yellow color Maggie is sure it belongs to Kara. Maggie smiles. Alex is beautiful, with no makeup on and tired eyes from just waking up, all bare skin under the harsh white light of the bathroom.

  
And just two days ago, she almost drowned.

  
Maggie had nightmares about it last night, and she’s sure Alex did too. They’re both used to this, but it’s never been such a close call for her, not with someone she loves. So there were nightmares, but neither of them mentioned them when they awoke.

  
Alex had just rolled over and kissed her, and Maggie kissed her back, and neither mentioned the fact that it was a little harder than a regular good morning kiss, a little more intense; that they were holding each other a little tighter.

  
And afterward she went down on her for half an hour because her woman deserved it. And then she made breakfast and let Alex feed it to her.

  
It was better, anyway. Maggie isn’t used to having someone to tell her nightmares and fears to.

  
Being vulnerable like that pulls a visceral reaction from her stomach, it’s ingrained in her DNA. She’s still reeling from breaking down yesterday, letting tears slip out in front of Kara, letting her voice shake and break. Utterly desperate. And then losing it again when Alex told her she loved her. Which she wasn’t ashamed of -but she can’t remember the last time she cried so much without having had a single drink. Maggie is almost sure it was a decade ago.

  
It’s new and different and strange.

  
Maggie feels raw.

  
“Water’s ready,” Alex says, pulling her out of her own head.

  
Maggie nods.

  
“Do you want me to-” She signals towards the water, and Alex nods. Maggie steps into the warm, almost too hot water of the bathtub. Just the way they both like it.

  
Maggie had hated showering with lukewarm water when she was a kid, those months when the whole house was working overtime to stay moderately warm during the cold Nebraska winter. Alex had told her Kara was weird about getting the water the right temperature when she arrived (something about Kryptonian technology doing it by itself) and she often used all the hot water up before Alex was even up. So they luxuriate in it together often. Hot showers are her favorite, because she’s never been a fan of her fingers getting pruney, but she’s willing to shoulder it for Alex.

  
She sighs as she sinks inside, and then lets her eyes trail over Alex while she sits down in front of her. Maggie spreads her legs a little so Alex can fall back against her chest, and then finally lets herself relax.

  
She rests her forehead against Alex’s back, and wraps her arms around her chest.

  
She’s the calmest she’s been in a while, but Alex is tense.

  
“Your heart is racing,” she mentions softly.

  
Alex shrugs.

  
“Flesh memory,” she says, almost too quiet for her to hear. Maggie swallows. Alex was trapped in a water tank, waiting for death—waiting to drown-

  
“Do you wanna get out-”

  
“Hold me down?” Alex asks before she can finish her offer. If it makes Alex uncomfortable, and she understands why it would, they can get out, but if she heard right her girlfriend is asking for the opposite.

  
“Under the water,” Alex clarifies. “Just a second.”

  
“Alex...”

  
“I just- I need to see something.” Alex looks back at her steadily, her whole upper body turned sideways as much as the bathtub allows to stare back at her. She looks determined, and it’s that determination she knows she can’t go against. She’s willing to go to bat for Alex, she made that promise long ago. Ride or die, even when she doesn’t fully agree or doesn’t understand.

  
Maggie takes one look at Alex’s face, and nods.

  
“How…how do you want me to-”

  
“I’ll show you.”

  
Alex breathes in out and out a few times, and then her face goes blank with concentration. It’s a look Maggie is used to seeing from Alex in the field, never when they’re home alone, but it makes an appearance now.

  
Her heart races as fast as Alex’s was, and Maggie isn’t quite sure how they went from taking a calming bath together to this. She wonders if it was Alex’s plan all along. It goes against every part of Maggie; she never wants to see Alex distressed, doesn’t wish to be the source of her anguish. But Alex asked for it and she knows better than to question her, and she knows Alex enough to know she doesn’t need to be questioned. She knows what she’s doing, and Maggie trusts her.

  
Alex takes a measured, controlled breath before leaning backwards until she’s underwater, her head effectively resting against Maggie’s thighs. She then grabs a hold of Maggie’s hands and puts them on her shoulders.

  
Maggie presses down, keeps her there.

  
She can see Alex’s face through the clear water, nodding. Alex closes her eyes. Minuscule bubbles of air make their way out of her nostrils. She’s calm, focused. Maggie is in awe.

  
She’s also terrified.

  
Watching Alex float in that tank was one of the worst moments of her life. Her arms tremble as she struggles to do what Alex asked and help keep her under, when all she wants is to yank her up and hold her to herself.

  
The longest minute of her life goes by.

  
Her arms struggle against the buoyancy of Alex’s body in the shallow water. It feels terrible, to hold her under when not two days ago she saw her floating in a prison filled with water, her hair spread out in an auburn halo not unlike now. It hurts Maggie.

  
Then Alex taps her hand and Maggie lets go; Alex floats up to the surface.

  
Maggie wraps her arms around her waist, pulling her against her and helping her sit up.  
Alex breathes in deeply.

  
Maggie rests her forehead on Alex’s back again, even more exhausted than she was five minutes ago.

  
This woman is going to kill her.

  
“What did you see?” she asks breathlessly. She briefly thinks she has no right to sound that way, since she wasn’t the one underwater, but then she wonders if it's right. Alex’s lungs are her own, her heart is Maggie’s heart.

  
“That I can still do my job,” Alex says, sitting back against her, her cheek against Maggie’s, her hands wrapped around Maggie’s forearms. “I don’t get to be scared of being underwater. And I’m not.”

 

“I’m dating a bad ass,” she tells her, her voice brittle. She can feel the corner of Alex’s mouth lifting up in a smile. She settles back against her, and Maggie finally feels Alex’s muscles start to loosen. Her hands caress down her body, stopping at her stomach. She lets her thumbs rub softly against the skin. “Do you wanna talk about it?” she asks.

  
Maggie is a good listener. It’s as much a part of who she is as a side effect of not liking to share things about herself—but it’s honest. It’s what she can do for Alex right now, beyond using her weight to freaking hold her down under water. She can be a listening ear, a shoulder to cry on.

  
Alex shakes her head.

  
“There wasn't much to do inside there,” she says. It’s not what Maggie asked. But she’ll give Alex time and space to talk about it on her own terms, if she wants to. “I’d rather you tell me what was going on outside. Kara said that Rick’s dad gave you the address?”

  
Maggie is pulled back to the past forty hours, to staring at his spiteful, hardened eyes, to holding a laptop like a lifeline. She knows then and there it’s the hardest case she’ll ever deal with.

  
“Yeah,” she tells her. “We flew from the prison straight to the warehouse.”

  
“Wait, Kara flew you?” Alex asks, and she’s smiling now. Maggie chuckles.

  
“Uh-huh,” she hums, her lips playing against the nape of Alex’s neck.

  
“Well, how was it?” she asks, and Maggie shakes her head. She doesn’t know if Alex is doing it on purpose, but she’s giving her a respite, a moment to pull herself together to talk about the ordeal from the past two days.

  
“Wouldn’t recommend,” she says. Alex laughs, hard, Maggie feels her stomach tighten beneath her fingertips. “I don’t know how you do it,” she tells her, in an effort to keep her laughing. In truth, she almost didn’t notice the few minutes she was in the air with Kara, knowing that Alex’s time had run out, that save for a miracle Alex would be gone. (The miracle was Alex herself all along.)

  
“The turbulence alone…” she trails off, shaking her head.

  
“Wait, how did she carry you?” Alex asks. Maggie recognizes the teasing tone in her voice. “Did she do it bridal style?”

  
“I would’ve killed her,” Maggie says, deadpan.

  
“Was it under your arms?” Alex asks, sounding infinitely amused. Maggie winces. “Oh my god, it was under your arms, wasn’t it?” Alex nearly doubles over with laughter, water splashing on the floor when she bends her knees and turns around. “You let her carry you like that-”

  
“We were in a bit of a hurry, okay?” she jokes, but it doesn’t land like she hopes. It’s too rough to, too true.

  
Alex’s laughs dwindles down. Maggie lets her smile fall. Alex offers her a comforting smile, as she squeezes Maggie’s knee under the water. Maggie doesn’t understand it, how Alex was so close to death and even now finds a way to joke about it and comfort her, but she loves her all the more for it.

  
(She can think it freely now, she can say it out loud. She loves her.)

  
“How’d you know he would know the place?” Alex asks, and Maggie knows she’s referring to Rick’s dad, that they’re back to the conversation at hand. She takes a breath, while Alex turns back around, settling back between her bent knees.

  
“I didn’t.”

  
Maggie is so glad Alex can’t look at her face.

  
Alex nods.

  
She holds Maggie’s hand over her chest.

  
It’s not that she was avoiding talking about it. It’s just that Alex spent the night and the early morning at the DEO, and Maggie only got her home at noon yesterday. She and Kara sat with her and ate takeout, and then Alex fell asleep at 6pm sharp and didn’t wake up until late this morning. For a solid two hours after that Alex was on the phone with her mom while Maggie made enough lunch to have leftovers for dinner. They had lunch and then they had sex—for another solid two hours—and then dinner and a nap. Now it’s after that nap and they’re taking a bath.

  
She hasn’t had time to think about it, much less talk about it.

  
“You got it out of him and you got there in time,” Alex says, caressing her hand. “That’s what matters.”

  
Maggie swallows.

  
“We weren’t…I, I wasn’t going there to interrogate him,” she tells her. “We didn’t even know if he would know. It was just a guess for him, just a possibility,” she tells her. It was luck. Pure blind luck. “I was going to set him free.” Her voice catches in her throat.

  
“Maggie…”

  
“I couldn’t lose you,” she confesses. “I was going to let him out. If Kara hadn’t gotten there…I would’ve let him out.” The last few words are quiet. It’s more freeing than any of the times she sat in a confessional as a preteen, asking for pardon in the name of sins she didn’t even understand yet. Yes, she was lazy sometimes. Yes, her body was changing and she had to pray to remain pure. She didn’t feel relief then. She didn’t get it. But it feels like taking the world off her shoulders as she speaks now.

  
She looks to the roof, fighting against the burn in her eyes. She’s not usually this emotional. She doesn’t live with a knot in her throat. Maggie faces down killers, rapists, and abusers on the daily, there’s no place for this ease of tears on the job.

  
But she’s not on the job.

  
She’s in her girlfriend’s bathtub, and she almost lost her forever.

  
Alex turns around fully, the water sloshing with her movements, and Maggie is forced to look her in the eye when Alex kneels in front of her. Somehow, it feels as big a confession as telling her she loved her for the first time yesterday.

  
Maggie loves her, yes. And she would give up her job for her, her freedom, her beliefs, her life.

  
“Maggie…”

  
“I wasn’t willing to lose you,” she says, her voice raw. She suddenly wishes she’d left her hair down, that she could use the water to conceal her face. A tear makes its way down her cheek and it burns. She looks down, looks away. Wipes it off her face with a wet hand.

  
The water is lukewarm now.

  
“If you were alive then I could deal with everything else later,” she says. “I was going to put a killer back in the streets, and I want to say that I thought about catching him again later, that I had a plan, but I didn’t. I wasn’t sure of anything right then. I just knew I had to find you before it was too late, and I could deal with how I got there later, once you were safe.”

  
It’s a realization about herself that she’s arrived to.

  
She only thought about it as Alex slept, after Rick had been carted off to wherever the DEO took their prisoners, and Alex’s co-workers insisted she spend the night at the med-bay.

  
Before, Maggie used to think she would always put her job above all else. Even when she’d started dating Alex, after they started sleeping together and settled on a comfortable routine. Maggie would make her breakfast before leaving for the station, and sure, sometimes she’d be late, but she knew where her priorities laid. And she knew—she was happy to know—that in Alex she’d found someone who understood that drive, who felt it just like she did. Alex would never chastise her for taking a call during dinner if she was needed at the station, because often, Alex was getting a similar call too. She understood what Maggie had always felt. The job came first.

  
And with it, her moral code.

  
That’s changed now. And it rocks her to her core.

  
Maggie’s a cop. She’s a good cop.

  
It’s the one thing she’s been sure of, about herself, ever since she got that badge pinned to her chest when she was fucking 21 years old.

  
She might not believe that she’s a good person half the time, and she might have had a shitty childhood experience that she still carries around and which resurfaces every Valentine’s Day. She might usually fuck up her relationships, too. Hell, Maggie probably is a fuck up of a woman. A discount, broken item you find at the back of the dollar store as opposed to a shining new vase, but she’s always been good at her job. She’s a good cop. Gotham couldn’t corrupt her. She’d stared down dirty partners and turned them in, and when their superiors turned out to be in on it Maggie had reported them, too. On danger of death she’d gone above and beyond instead of keeping her head down. It’s who she is.

  
She’s always believed there’s a right way and a wrong way to do things. She’s not naive enough to believe the law is always so clean cut, but that’s why she has her own moral code, her personal compass that decides which lines to cross. It’s why she’s never been sold on vigilantes, why she struggled to see where to draw the line when Superman appeared, and then Supergirl, how much power to give them.

  
But she would’ve put a murderer back on the streets, not only broken the law and lost her job, and very likely gone to prison herself, but broke her own moral code. Her personal sense of right and wrong. She’s fought to put men like him behind bars for over a decade, and she would’ve broken him out in under ten minutes. That’s who she is. When it comes down to it, under duress—she’s not the cop she thought she was.

  
And she might hate herself for it, but she’s not sorry.

  
She loves Alex. And she loves her more than she’s ever loved anyone, anything. More than her career. It’s what she’s dedicated her life to, and in a split second when given the choice, she’d turned her back on it all to save her. More...than her own beliefs. And she doesn’t regret it. Maggie can think that it would be the right thing to do, to bend the rules to save a human life, but she knows she wouldn’t do it for just anyone. Kara wouldn’t do it, but Maggie guesses that’s why she’s a superhero. J’onn wouldn’t do it, because he wouldn’t negotiate with terrorists. And once upon a time she would have swore that she shared their views. Not anymore.

  
The woman she loves is her weak spot. The chink in her armor. She would do anything to save her. Break any law, go against any order. Break her own code and challenge her sense of self. She’s almost afraid to wonder how far it goes. (What if someone asked her to harm someone to save Alex’s life? Would she do it? Or to pick between Alex and someone else. If it was her own life on the line she knows what she’d choose, but when it’s Alex she thinks about she’s not sure of anything.)

  
She’s never loved anyone quite like this. It’s dangerous. It’s terrifying.

  
Last year, before she met Alex, there were a string of robberies in the city, all using guns from the precinct’s armory. Maggie had thought that National City wasn’t better than Gotham, that cops were dirty even here and were supplying the gangbangers...and she was right. But not for the reasons she thought. Woods, a sergeant, had been taking the guns and handing them over. The thieves had taken his 6 year old son from elementary school and given him a ride around the city before dropping him off at his house with a note full of demands.

  
Maggie had been one of the few officers to remain firmly behind the line that what the sergeant  had done was wrong.

  
“It was the man’s kid, Maggie,” McConell had said. “They were threatening to kill his boy. I don’t agree with what he did, but I can understand the guy. You’d let your family die?”

  
Maggie knew the answer. She had’t heard from her parents in 17 years. She didn’t care about her family most days, and on the others she hated them. She wouldn’t help a criminal to save them. She thought about Kelly, the girl she was seeing then—all blonde hair and a sweet smile—the closest thing she had to someone she cared about, and she decided that no, she wouldn’t do it. If it ever happened she’d be a cop and act how she was trained to. She’d never sink to that level.

  
She cups her hands around Alex’s cheeks, her thumbs rubbing up and down. Alex gives her a small, sad smile. Maggie understands Sergeant Woods now.

  
She’s not a perfect cop, her moral code isn’t bulletproof—not anymore. She’s human.

  
Alex stares back at her with wet eyes, and Maggie knows that she understands the implications of what she’s saying. It was never about talking over punching, or whatever Kara had simplified it as. It wasn’t even about police work, or the law. It was about what you would do for who you love, how far you’d be willing to tear yourself and everyone around you apart just to keep them in one piece. And Maggie got her answer.

  
It's not the answer she was looking for, and it's not one she's proud of, but she accepts it. It’s who she is now. And she wouldn't give up Alex—her warm smiles, the way she sparks a blooming warmth in her chest that sometimes threatens to overwhelm her—to go back to who she used to be.

  
“I love you,” she tells Alex, who smiles in response, even though the expression is tinged with sadness.

  
Maybe this is what love means. Maybe the words don’t have to be used to appease someone, or because they’re expected, nor do they have to be repeated so much they lose all meaning. Maybe it’s this. Knowing she means it, in a profound way she never has before. She loves her and that means she’d give up anything for her, that her happiness and well being matter more to her than her own, that the rest of the world can go to shit as long as Alex is okay.  

  
That probably means she's not a good person (but Maggie has known this for a while now). Maybe that means she's not a good cop, either, and that’s the one thing she was sure of.  So where does that leave her? She feels adrift, clinging desperately to Alex as the waves of uncertainty crash against her, but she knows Alex can't be her anchor forever, and she knows it's not fair to put that kind of pressure on her. This is something she needs to deal with herself, a new reality that came with opening herself up to the kind of world-shattering love she shares with Alex.

  
(Maybe, and part of Maggie craves this to be true, this is normal. Maybe that’s why so many cops, good cops, men and women she admired, welcomed Sergeant Woods back after his leave with open arms, even though he’d helped thieves and betrayed the uniform. Because they understood that kind of love, because they’d felt it. Maybe Maggie was one of the few people unlucky enough to not know what it meant to love someone so much you would betray anyone, let innocents get hurt just to ensure their safety. She understands that now, even though it goes against everything she believes in. She can’t hate blame Woods for helping those thieves to save his son. Maybe one day she won’t blame herself for trying to put a murderer on the loose to save Alex. But there’s time for that.)

  
“I love you too,” Alex tells her, and it stops her heart in her chest just like it did the first time. The levity of the past few minutes seems to lift as the words pull a smile from her lips.

  
Alex climbs onto her lap, her knees bracketing Maggie’s hips. The water sloshes against the sides of the bathtub as she sits up and wraps her arms around her waist. She meets Alex’s lips with her own, licks away the droplets of water from her previous adventure under the surface.

  
The water is going cold now, but Maggie has never felt so warm.

  
It radiates through her chest, and it hurts in the most delicious way, how much she feels for this woman in her arms. It pushes against her lungs and beats with her heart, so that her every breath spells out ‘Alex’.

  
She nudges Alex’s cheek with her nose, and then presses a kiss to her jaw.

  
She loves this woman. God, how she loves her.

  
“I- huh-” She takes a breath, piles the words running through her head into a sentence. She’s not used to just saying things like this, to letting them sprout out as soon as she thinks them like Alex does. She lacks that ability and she knows it. She’s used to practicing before hand, to repeating words to herself until they sound right. When she was younger, she used to write down what she wanted to say, and then practice it in front of the mirror. Maggie’s outgrown that now, but she still has a hard time with her words. But Alex makes her want to try.

  
“I...I don’t think I’ve ever loved anyone the way I love you, Danvers,” she tells her, the sentence leaving her mouth dry. But it’s out there now, bouncing against the tiles of the bathroom.

  
Alex meets her eyes, and Maggie feels achingly vulnerable under her gaze.

  
“No?” Alex asks gently, the hint of a smile across her lips even though her eyes are wet with emotion. Maggie smiles softly.

  
“No,” she confirms. Alex leans forward, pressing a kiss to her cheek before letting her lips brush her ear.

  
“Right back at ya,” she says. Maggie nods. She doesn’t want to break the moment with harsh movements, but then Alex is kissing her again, and she returns it in kind, pouring everything she’s feeling in a way she knows how. Maggie has always been better with her body than with her words, but those didn’t fail her today either.

  
“The water is cold,” Alex says, briefly pulling away. “Wanna get out of here?”

  
Her voice is as suggestive as can be, and though Maggie feels the pull of lust tight between her legs and curling around her lower stomach, she declines. She’s too raw right now, too vulnerable. If she gets into bed with Alex she runs a high risk of doing something dumb like crying.

  
“I thought you wanted to have a bath,” she says instead, letting her head fall forward and her lips kiss away the droplets gathered in Alex’s collarbone. “Want me to wash your back for you?”

  
“Maybe later,” Alex tells her, accepting her answer. And Maggie doesn’t have to give excuses, to explain away her words just in case they’re misunderstood and she’s in trouble -it’s never like that with Alex. “Can we just stay like this for a little while?” Alex pleads instead, and Maggie nods.

  
There’s nowhere she’d rather be. In an hour Maggie will make love to her like she deserves (she almost wants to chuckle at the words, because they sound like something Alex would say, not her) but right now? This is what she needs. It’s perfect.

  
Alex squeezes closer to her, her skin pure silk under the water. Maggie’s fingers slide down her back and come to rest on Alex’s hip bones, a grounding spot among the shifting water. Their breasts press together, not an inch of space between their bodies. Their breaths sync as Alex lets her head fall forward to rest against her shoulder, and -through ups and downs and impossible choices- Maggie thinks that she’s waited her whole life to feel this close to another human being.

  
She doesn’t mind at all.


End file.
